


The Black Hole

by Squidalicious



Series: Pure Romance Oneshots [4]
Category: Junjou Romantica
Genre: Fanfic within fanfic, M/M, OOC, Seriously this one is so dumb why did I write it, kind of cracky, stupidness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 02:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squidalicious/pseuds/Squidalicious
Summary: Akihiko and his boyfriend undergo a harrowing experience, which Misaki then inadvertently unleashes unto the rest of the world.





	The Black Hole

It was just coming up to six O'clock when Akihiko arrived home, a spring in his step as he made his way up to the penthouse. His newest novel was completed and selling like hotcakes, as usual, and now all that was left for him to do was enjoy a homemade dinner and a nice helping of Misaki for dessert.

When he opened the door and entered, however, he found the condo to be quite dark and empty. Frowning, Akihiko stepped out of his shoes and the entryway. A brief search of the first floor yielded no dinner, Misaki or even a note.

 _That's odd_ , he thought to himself. He hoped Misaki had simply been too tired to cook and not abducted by Haruhiko or that annoying mangaka again.

"Misaki?" he called out, standing at the foot of the stairs. "Are you home?"

No answer. Perplexed and a little disappointed, Akihiko made his way upstairs and down the hall to the closed door of Misaki's bedroom. A faint glow shone through the crack above the carpet, which only added to his confusion. He knocked twice.

"Misaki?"

Nothing. Akihiko waited only a moment before cautiously pushing the door open, peering through the gloom within. Misaki's room was as dark as the rest of the house, with the curtains drawn and the open laptop on the desk being the only light source. And in the furthest corner, lying on top of the bed…

"Misaki…?"

Warily, Akihiko approached him. Misaki was curled up in a ball on his side, shivering and hugging a pair of knees to his chest. His face was hidden as if in fear of some unseen horror, and Akihiko's mouth went dry. Something wasn't right here.

He knelt beside the bed, a concerned frown pinching his face.

"Misaki, are you okay?"

He reached out and touched his shoulder. At the contact, Misaki only shrank in on himself even further.

"U-U-Usagi-san…" he whimpered, "It was h… h… horrible…"

Worry quickly set in as Akihiko surveyed his trembling uke. Something had obviously happened to Misaki while he was out- something truly traumatising, by the sounds of it- but what? Akihiko was dying to find out, but in order to get it out of Misaki he'd have to calm him down first.

"There, there," he said kindly, stroking Misaki's dishevelled hair. "I'm here, Misaki. Everything's fine."

"N-no it's not!" said Misaki, frantically shaking his head. He peeked out from behind his arms, and Akihiko was shocked by the wildness in his usually placid green eyes.

"I have seen things today," he said, speaking in an odd, raspy voice that frightened Akihiko just a little, "that I will never be able to unsee."

"Um…"

"I have been _defiled_ , Usagi-san!" he cried, unfurling suddenly. Eerie light from the computer screen outlined his face as he leaned closer to the bewildered novelist. He started to gabble. "They treated me like a… like a… like a piece of meat! Like a puppet for their own sick fantasies!"

"What are you talking about?" Suddenly, Akihiko's eyes widened and he grabbed Misaki's shoulders. "Did somebody hurt you, is that what you're saying?"

Akihiko hoped for the sake of the rest of the world that he'd misunderstood. He wasn't sure he could control his rage if _anyone_ had laid a finger on his Misaki.

The shaken boy scooted backwards into the corner and hunched over there. He refused to look at Akihiko, staring into space instead.

"Worse than that…" He started rocking on his haunches, muttering. "They made me do things… Terrible, awful, _disgusting_ things…"

Haunted, green eyes met Akihiko's again and filled with tears. "I don't think I'll ever be the same again, Usagi-san."

The author's brow was creased with confusion and despair. He was truly terrified for his beloved now; what on earth had happened to reduce him to such a state?

"Misaki, I don't understand," he said. "What did they do to you? Who are 'they'?"

In response, Misaki reached out and pointed a quivering finger at the glowing laptop on his desk.

"S-see for yourself…"

After a moment's hesitation, Akihiko rose from the floor and headed over to the desk. He was utterly baffled; after all, what could the computer tell him that Misaki couldn't? Stooping, he peered at the screen and found himself looking at a website he didn't recognise.

 _This is what's freaked him out so much?_ But it was just a website…

Only when Akihiko caught sight of the title at the top of the page did everything suddenly make sense.

_**Junai Romantica** _ **fanfiction archive.**

Dropping his shoulders, Akihiko heaved a sigh- half out of relief, half out of incredulous exasperation towards his boyfriend. He looked over his shoulder at Misaki, raising an eyebrow.

"So, when you say you were 'defiled', you just mean some BL fans used your name in their erotic fanfiction?"

Horror was still etched into Misaki's face, though it now seemed more humorous than tragic. "Are you telling me that's not defilement?!"

Akihiko burst into hearty laughter. So, his uptight, prudish little uke had simply happened upon some kinky _Junai Romantica_ stories and overreacted. And there was Akihiko thinking Misaki had been kidnapped or gang raped or something…

In the corner of the bed, Misaki was still rocking back and forth, clutching the sides of his dark, shaggy head.

"Wh-why would anybody _write_ something like that?" he was mumbling. "It's just… _wrong_."

"What, this one here?"

A quick glance at the summary told Akihiko everything he needed to know. He read the name of the story aloud, causing a shudder to rack Misaki's form.

"I had to take a shower after reading it," he said hollowly. "It wasn't enough… Nothing will ever be enough," he concluded, grimacing to himself.

Shaking his head, Akihiko strolled over and ruffled Misaki's hair. "You're so dramatic, Misaki."

He bristled at that.

"I'm not being dramatic!" he snapped. "Do you have _any idea_ the kinds of things your freakish fangirls did to me?!"

Furiously, he pointed an accusing finger at his laptop. "I only read, like, four of those abominations, and now I'm gonna need therapy for a decade!"

To Misaki's immense annoyance, Akihiko just sniggered at him.

"They're just dirty stories written by socially awkward teenaged girls. It's nothing to lose your head over."

For a moment or two, Misaki just stared at him. Then, he let out a humourless laugh. "You have _no idea_ , Usagi-san!

"The stuff those people wrote about… the things they made me do…" he said, and rubbed his arms as if they were covered in spiders. "I feel so _violated_."

"But, nothing in those stories happened to _you_ ," Akihiko pointed out. The bedsprings squeaked as he took a seat beside him. "Just a fictional version of you. Based off another fictional version of you."

"Not important!" Misaki barked. He leapt forwards onto his knees, glaring. "Those creeps have completely sullied my good name with their, their 'fanfiction'!" He retched. "As if it wasn't bad enough having _you_ use me as the subject of your depraved delusions without half a million perverted teenagers doing it as well!"

Akihiko was tempted to ask Misaki why he was even looking at _Junai Romantica_ fanfiction in the first place if he found it so appalling, but refrained, opting instead to give the boy a condescending pat on the shoulder.

"Come now, Misaki. You should feel proud to have provided such inspiration for so many people."

Misaki crossed his arms and 'hmph'ed, scowling at Akihiko.

"This is all your fault, you stupid rabbit! None of this would have happened if you hadn't written those disgusting books about me…" He gasped suddenly, leaning forwards and urgently gripping Akihiko's arm. "That's it! Usagi-san, claim copyright and have all those stories taken down!"

Akihiko gave him a look. "That would be a bit of an overreaction, don't you think? Besides, I'd lose half my fanbase."

He was sure Akikawa-sensei's readers wouldn't take kindly to having their online outlet for fujoshi urges completely obliterated. Misaki's fingers dug into his arm, and he could see the desperation written on his face.

"But you can't just sit back and do nothing!" he insisted, gesturing once more to his computer where the website was still open. "That stuff doesn't belong on the internet! Heck, it's too sick and twisted even for the filthiest corner of _hell_! You can't let it stay there online where any poor soul could stumble across it!"

"Oh, come on," said Akihiko. "It can't be that bad."

"Oh, yeah?" Misaki's eyes narrowed. "Have you ever actually _read_ any fanfiction?"

He scoffed. "Of course not. Why would I read an unoriginal knockoff of my own work written by some amateur?"

To Akihiko's puzzlement, Misaki shook his head sadly at him upon hearing this. He shuffled forwards so they were sitting side-by-side on the edge of his narrow bed.

"You don't get it."

The author's brow puckered, and Misaki let out a long, shuddering breath before attempting to explain.

"Usagi-san… those internet stories are _not_ like your BL novels- they're worse." He was sitting like a patient in a psychiatrist's office- elbows resting on splayed thighs, head bowed and face hidden from view- as if he were relaying some traumatic experience to Akihiko. In a low, disturbed sort of voice, he affirmed, "They're _so_ much worse…"

Looking down at him, Akihiko just sighed; his boyfriend was such a little drama queen. Granted, he didn't know much about this fanfiction business- only what Aikawa-san had told him- but he was sure Misaki was making a big fuss over nothing.

"They can't be any worse than the source material," he said, and nudged Misaki's side. "There's even a volume of _Junai_ where I fuck you in a Ferris wheel car, remember?"

He was surprised when Misaki answered him with a scornful 'pshhh!'

"That?!" he said. When he lifted his face to look at Akihiko, it was deadly serious. "That's _nothing_.

"My eyes have been opened today, Usagi-san," he declared, pointing to one of them for emphasis (its lower lid was flickering slightly) and then to his laptop. "Whatever you find on that, that _black hole_ of a website, I promise you it's far, far freakier than Ferris wheel fucking."

Silver brows raised at this change of tune; Misaki had almost vomited after reading that particular _Junai Romantica_ novel. "Really?"

Misaki nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah. I'm telling you, Usagi-san, those fangirls of yours have so little self-restraint they make _you_ look like Mother freaking Teresa!"

He stilled, red-faced and panting a little after his outburst. Akihiko stared at him for all of five seconds before jumping up off the mattress.

"Well, colour me intrigued."

He made for Misaki's desk. Until now, the esteemed author had always considered 'fanfiction' to be beneath him, but after seeing the effects it had on his uke, perhaps it was time he gave it a try… He'd only made it a few paces, however, when there was a cry of "Usagi-san, _no_!" and a pair of arms grabbed him tightly around the waist.

Frowning, Akihiko looked down. Misaki was gripping him like a lifeline, staring up with eyes that were all but popping out of his head.

"Don't go near that website, Usagi-san," he pleaded. "It may be too late for me, but you can still be spared!"

Akihiko rolled his eyes.

"You can't pique my curiosity like that and then keep me in the dark," he said. "Just let me read one or two."

But Misaki whipped his dark head from side to side, tightening his hold.

"For the love of God, Usagi, don't do it!" Even as Akihiko started walking again, he clung on. His feet dragged across the floor as he continued, "There are things on that site that aren't meant for human or leporine eyes!"

The imploring look on his face matched his tone of voice. Smiling at his histrionic housemate, Akihiko pried Misaki's arms from his waist and settled himself in the boy's desk chair.

"You're being silly," he said, and threw him a smirk. "Besides, you're always saying what a huge pervert I am, Misaki- I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle."

Standing in the middle of the room with his arms outstretched, Misaki opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish in protest. Eventually, however, he closed it, pressing his lips together in grim resolve. He dropped his arms.

"Fine then. Do it." Turning on his heel, he marched towards the bedroom door, frowning at Akihiko over his shoulder before he left. "But don't say I didn't warn you!"

Akihiko called after him as he shut the door, hearing his footsteps on the stairs. "Where are you going?"

"To get so pissed that I'll forget everything I read today…" was Misaki's fast fading response.

 _Oh, Misaki…_ Chuckling to himself, Akihiko swivelled back around in the chair and turned his attention to the waiting webpage.

Before he'd even begun reading, some of his fans' ridiculous usernames had him sneering. If these amateurs couldn't even come up with a decent pseudonym, he doubted anything they'd written would be particularly scintillating, let alone too horrifying for him to handle. Misaki had to be exaggerating; true, he seemed to recall his editor saying this website was rather notorious for… a number of things, but for him, the original author, it should be a cakewalk, shouldn't it? Surely, there was nothing in this frivolous fiction that could faze him. The fantasies of his readers may have been too much for Misaki's innocent mind, but Akihiko was made of much sterner stuff than him.

Scrolling through until he found a summary that looked passable, Akihiko clicked onto the story and started to read. He wasn't apprehensive in the slightest. After all, it was just fanfiction; how bad could it be?

* * *

An enormous pile of empty beer cans had accumulated on the coffee table. Chugging what was probably his sixth or seventh, Misaki tossed it onto the metal mound with a _clank_ and slid down in his seat, hiccupping. He felt queasy, his head spinning and his vision blurring at the edges- and yet, he still for the life of him couldn't get rid of those vile images. Usagi-san's fangirls had seared them into his brain.

He slumped further down into the couch cushions. He wished he'd never discovered that website… A few hours ago, Misaki wasn't even aware that 'fanfiction' was a thing that existed. He'd thought the stuff inside Usagi-san's books and bedroom were as dirty as it got. Ah, if only he could return to that state of blissful ignorance…

And now Usagi-san, too, had been sucked into that black hole they called fanfiction dot net. Sluggishly, Misaki turned his head towards the upstairs landing where his room was. Who knew what nightmares Usagi-san was being subjected to behind that door? He'd looked so sure of himself as he sat down in front of that computer, completely oblivious to the horror that awaited him… Misaki reached sorrowfully for another drink. How he feared for his unwitting boyfriend.

His face was hot with a drunken flush, but he couldn't stop yet; his only hope of respite now was a complete and total memory wipe. He was just prying open the beer can (or at least trying to- the alcohol was causing his fingers to fumble) when above him, his bedroom door suddenly banged open.

He looked up again. In the doorway was Usagi-san, standing completely still as he leaned against the frame. Even as bleary-eyed as he was, Misaki could see the drastic change in his boyfriend's demeanour. Usagi-san's smug smirk had vanished, replaced with a worn, haggard expression that rivalled even the author's post-deadline morning face.

Slowly, he descended the stairs. Misaki watched him trudge, zombie-like, over to the coffee table and pick up a half-empty packet of cigarettes.

Only after he'd lit up, taken a long drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke did Usagi-san turn his attention to Misaki. Disturbed, lavender eyes found his boyfriend's barely focused ones.

"Where's the bleach?"

Misaki blinked bovinely. "Huh?"

"The bleach," Usagi-san repeated. He was looking rather green in the face. "I need to rinse out my eyeballs."

His voice was flat and hoarse. The younger man threw up his hands drunkenly.

"I- hic- _told_ you!"

Usagi-san seemed stunned as he shook his head. Whatever he'd read up there, he was clearly still struggling to process it. Slowly, he sank into the couch beside Misaki, grabbing one of the remaining beer cans and taking a huge swig.

After wiping his mouth, he leaned forwards and let out a heavy sigh, for once in his life seeming to be lost for words. Misaki didn't blame him. A minute or two went by before he finally managed a weak response:

"I didn't expect… I mean, I didn't think it would be _that_ awful."

Taking a sip from his own can, Misaki nodded, only somewhat sympathetically. Yes, he pitied Usagi-san- whatever remaining shreds of innocence he may have possessed having been torn away- but he had brought this on himself. He should have heeded Misaki's warning.

"You were right, Misaki," he went on, the cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. Stale-smelling smoke filled the air and hung over them in a grey cloud, perfectly matching the grim, aghast state the two of them now shared. "We can't let this continue any longer. We have to put an end to those fangirls and their so-called 'fanfiction'."

His voice was grave and dripping with contempt, pale irises echoing with horrific recollections as they stared into Misaki's. " _No-one_ should have to go through what we just went through."

Misaki swayed, beer sloshing out of the can and onto the pink cushions. "What did I tell ya?" he slurred. "Those stories are the grossest, most disgustingest things ever written an' ish all your fault, Ushagi-shan! Ish- hic- _your_ responsibility to get rid of 'em!"

Beside him, Usagi-san had been puffing on his cigarette and looking to be concentrating on not throwing up at the memories of what he'd just read, but after Misaki made this proclamation he raised his head to him, blinking.

"Oh, the _stories_ were great," he said.

" _Hah?!_ " Lurching forwards, Misaki stared bug-eyed at his boyfriend. Surely, he'd misheard that, right? Right?! "Whaddaya mean, the stories were great? Didn't ya- hic- see what happened to me in those things?!"

A silver head nodded distractedly. "Yeah, yeah, some really innovative ideas. I even noted a few down." A large hand raked through his hair and he shuddered. "The content was fine, but the _writing_ …"

He took another gulp of beer. Meanwhile, Misaki's own can slipped from his hand, clattering to the wooden floorboards. He gaped at Usagi-san.

" _That's_ your only issue with this?" he said. "The _writing_?"

"Yes," said Usagi-san, as though it were the most obvious answer in the world. "Are you telling me you didn't notice it?"

"Why would I be paying attention to the _writing_?!" Misaki cried, beside himself. "I was too busy trying not to stab pencils through my eyes or projectile vomit all over my laptop to notice the odd missing apostrophe!"

He expected his boyfriend to agree with him, but of course he should have known better. Usagi-san shrugged.

"To be honest, I found the actual stories rather enjoyable." However, his features quickly contorted once again as he continued, alternating between drinking and smoking. "But the spelling… the grammar… It was like reading something written by a toddler. I got through ten thousand words just now, and I don't think I saw a single comma…"

Misaki continued to stare. Usagi-san's deranged fangirls had shamelessly plagued the internet with depictions of his sweet uke as some slutty, sordid little fuck toy... and he was miffed about the spelling errors? "You can't be serious."

"I'm telling you, Misaki, it was _unfathomable_!" he said, misunderstanding. The novelist screwed his eyes shut and downed the rest of his beer.

"Not capitals or line breaks, ten exclamation points in a row, author's notes right in the middle of paragraphs…" he relayed, and rubbed a hand over his stubbled chin. "Oh, and some of those euphemisms were downright terrible! Did you read the one where someone compared your nipples to pencil erasers?"

" _Usagi-san!_ " Misaki cut across, incredulous, "Who gives a rat's ass about the spelling, or the grammar, or anything like that?! If you're going to complain about something, complain about the absolute vulgarity of those stupid stories!"

Usagi-san waved a hand.

"Oh, please, that was tame stuff," he said. He blew out another plume of smoke. "Those fangirls may have butchered the language, but the content wasn't half bad.

"In fact, if only the writers were the slightest bit literate, they could produce some really decent BL stories from those ideas…"

All of a sudden, he trailed off, the cigarette pausing halfway to his lips. Misaki watched with mounting dread as a thoughtful expression crossed his boyfriend's features.

"Usagi-san…"

Abruptly, the author bent to stub out his cigarette. When he straightened up again, his face held a new look of decisiveness.

"If you need me, I'll be in my office."

With that, he turned and started walking briskly towards the staircase. His stomach plummeting into his shoes as he realised his boyfriend's intentions, Misaki leapt from the couch in a panic, but due to his booze-addled brain ended tumbling flat on his face.

 _No!_ What had Misaki done?! He _couldn't_ let the horrors of fanfiction dot net spread any further than the digital world!

Frantically, he struggled up onto his arms, but Usagi-san was already halfway up the stairs.

"Usagi-san!" he screamed after the man's retreating back. It, along with the rest of the condo, was starting to spin. "Usagi-san, don't you- hic- _dare_!"

It was too late- the door to Usagi-san's office closed. Defeated, Misaki dropped his head and stayed there on his hands and knees, watching the floorboards beneath him begin to turn black. Before oblivion took him, he gathered the last of his fuzzy thoughts into a single, bitter curse upon himself.

_Why did I ever visit that fucking website?_


End file.
